You’re a parent. Congratulations. You’ve done your bit to keep humanity chugging along. However, and this is going to come as a shock to some of you, this does not entitle you to take your little bundle of joy to the local bar. When I was a little Big Bad Bill I remember one thing my grandparents said very well. It was simple, there were places I wasn’t old enough to go. Those places became milestones for me. I remember when I went to my first “grown up” restaurant. I was five. I had to remember my manners and to say please and thank you to the staff. We even had a mini-rehearsal at home where we all dressed up and my aunt served us dinner. It sounds kind of dorky now, but to a five year old it was an honor. More importantly, it was an honor I’d earned. I’d done good in school and had been well behaved. Going to that restaurant, Tom’s Steakhouse on North Avenue, was a huge event for me. It didn’t matter that it was only a block from my home. It was a “grown up” place and may as well have been on the other side of the moon.
After I’d traversed that hurdle successfully I was allowed to go to other “grown up” places. Each and every time I was aware, without being told, that it was a privilege and not a right.
Somehow that knowledge has not been passed on. I, and I’m sure you have too, have sat in a restaurant where I’m about to fork over good money for great food only to have the evening ruined by some rug rat tearing through the place like a demented Weeble on amyl nitrate. I have, every time, stood up and left. Of course I paid for whatever I’d had up until that point, I’m not a complete jerk, but I also let the waiter or waitress know why I was leaving. Once there were six of us at the table and we were looking to spend a few hundred bucks. Instead we went down the street to another joint and had pasta.
Not that there’s anything wrong with pasta, it just wasn’t what we’d originally planned. Of course we hadn’t planned on the mutant spawn from hell being given free reign at a place where the minimum cost of an entree was $30.00.
But now adults are fighting back. A restaurant in North Carolina took the first step by banning any screaming or unruly children. Your kid gets out of line and they hand you your hat and show you the door.
That, however, is reactive.
Now, thanks to Sophia Walker, we learn about a restaurant called McDain’s in Pennsylvania which is taking the proactive role and simply banning all kids under the age of six.
When you read Sophia’s article I’m sure you’ll note that she seems mildly pleased at this development.
McDain’s Restaurant in Monroeville, Pennsylvania has raised the ire of idiot parents everywhere by banning children under 6 years of age. Owner John Vuick says parents with misbehaving children are “impolite” and “selfish,” and that those children are “not the center of the universe.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
Here is a video from the local news station.
The bottom line is, if your child can’t sit in a restaurant without having a screaming fit, IT SHOULDN’T BE THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
It’s about time someone decided to call bullshit on the idea that parents of small children deserve a get out of jail free card when they inappropriately take the little pyschos to restaurants, the cinema, shops, etc. and let them go berserk.
The sense of entitlement that so many self-absorbed, middle class, white people have is annoying as hell, and I for one am thrilled that at least one restaurant owner has the balls to keep these assholes and their little brats at home where they belong, not out ruining life for the rest of us.
If I sat down in a restaurant and lit up a cigar and blew the smoke in your face while you were trying to eat your dinner, you would call the fucking cops on me. Well a screaming child is exactly the same as the cigar, a horrible, annoying intrusion that makes eating a meal into a nightmare.
But more than all that, it’s really just a matter of showing a little fucking class. When you’re in a restaurant, you’re not at home sitting on the couch in front of the TV eating off a paper plate. You’re in someone’s business, where you and eveyone else are expected to act in a mature, civilized way.
And no fucking breatfeeding in restaurants either. Show a little class you fucking hippie.
As I said, she seems pleased with this development.
If you’re not sure, here are some simple rules.
(1) If the establishment serves booze, do not bring your kids.
(2) If the menu says “Prix Fixe” (fixed price), do not bring your kids.
(3) If proper attire is required, do not bring your kids.
(4) If any item on the menu costs more than $15, do not bring your kids.
Follow those rules and everyone will have a safe, and enjoyable, dining experience.
Listen to Bill McCormick on WBIG AM 1280, every Thursday morning around 9:10!